


I Know That I'm Being Used (That's Ok Because I Like the Abuse)

by aunt_zelda



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Blood Kink, Derogatory Language, First Kiss, Frottage, Groping, Heterosexual Character, Homophobia, Humiliation, Kissing, Lap Sex, M/M, Manipulative Relationship, Power Imbalance, Power Play, Requited Unrequited Love, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 01:43:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4328931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aunt_zelda/pseuds/aunt_zelda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack has a Vault Hunter problem. Nakayama takes care of it in exchange for kisses (no tongue.)<br/>Jack is an asshole.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Know That I'm Being Used (That's Ok Because I Like the Abuse)

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a tumblr thread here: http://out-there-on-the-maroon.tumblr.com/post/121985922940/out-there-on-the-maroon-nakawhatever-i
> 
>  
> 
> Please note that this fic is from Jack's POV, Jack is an asshole, he's very heterosexual, and he says and thinks cruel and offensive things I myself do not believe or support. There are power imbalances and then there's this unhealthy mess right here. 
> 
> I couldn't find a tag for 'manipulative straight character/devoted gay character' but that is what this is. Jack is heterosexual and using Nakayama's feelings for him to his own advantage. It is not romantic or nice, it's horrible. 
> 
> If I have neglected to warn or tag for anything, please do not hesitate to let me know and I will edit the tags accordingly.

Jack would be the first to admit it’s not one of his better schemes. Sending out a memo to every Hyperion employee, advertizing a huge cash reward for any of the Vault Hunters: dead or alive but preferably dead. 

Mostly, what it gets him is a lot of Hyperion employees causing a ruckus down on Pandora and ending up dead. Which is amusing, because most of them livestream their attempts. Watching people blow up is still watching people blow up, regardless of the people. 

Jack is watching one such video, laughing uproariously, when one of the R&D guys scuttles into his office. Beard, glasses, labcoat, not a hot chick … Jack knows he’s probably seen the guy a dozen times before but the man’s face hasn’t stuck in his memory at all. 

“Can you believe this shit? I mean, seriously,” Jack shakes his head, pointing at the screen. “Don’t know what I expected. Some low-level Hyperion employee actually pulls it off? Yeah right. But bounty hunters are so fucking expensive.”

“Employees should be capable of anything, if given the proper motivation,” the R&D guy says, after sliding the reports onto Jack’s desk with shaking hands. 

“Motivation? What, is a ridiculous amount of cash not enough?”

“Maybe not,” the R&D guy’s voice sounds a little squeaky. Maybe he’s been sampling the chemicals downstairs. “It’s … it’s quite a risk, so the reward should be more … personalized.” 

“Oh, hang on, I get it!” Jack grins. “It’s like a video game, right? Can’t just be cash, gotta have some other incentive. New car. Victory kiss. I gotcha.” 

The R&D guy wobbles in place like someone just hit him in the kneecaps. 

“I’ll update the memo. Thanks, uh … whatever your name is.” Jack starts typing as the R&D guy scuttled back out. 

Jack never gets around to updating the memo, and forgets all about the R&D guy.

~*~

“Holy shit!”

Jack stares at his desk. More specifically, he stares at the severed head on the desk. The head of a Vault Hunter. It’s still dripping blood. 

Beside it, splattered in a lot more blood, is the scrawny R&D guy. He’s grinning proudly.

“Here you go, sir!” he beams. “One dead Vault Hunter! I tried to bring the rest of him, but, well, could only escape with the head once I’d killed him. I hope that’s enough proof of death?”

“Uh … yeah … that’s … wow …” Jack is seldom at a loss for words. He babbles, fills the space, talks over people, interrupts people, anything to keep the focus and attention on him. He’s speechless now though. Finally, someone actually did it. 

The R&D guy coughs. “Um, the matter of my, er, reward?”

“What? Oh, right!” Jack waves a hand. “My assistant can wire the money to your account.”

“And the, uh, other reward?” the R&D guy takes a tiny step forward.

Their previous conversation comes crashing back. Jack rethinks his fuzzy memories of this man. Oh. _Oh._

Oh.

“Oh.” Jack considers his options. He could laugh the guy off, but at the same time, the R&D guy did just kill a Vault Hunter. His chances of killing another one are pretty high, compared to all the abysmal failures, and he’s cheaper than a bounty hunter. 

And he’ll be more likely to try again, if Jack makes good on his word. Even if his word had been a stupid joke. The R&D guy had believed him, and gone and killed a Vault Hunter for the promise of it.

Jack squints at the R&D guy. Yeah, not really anything going for him in terms of looks. It isn’t like Jack is going to be able to screw up his eyes and imagine a scrawny lady instead. This guy has a beard, wrinkles, graying hair, beady little eyes. He’s covered in blood right now, which is a bonus, Jack likes that look on anyone, but that doesn’t disguise the fact that underneath the blood is a man.

“Ok, um, just … stay there.” Jack says slowly, psyching himself up for this. He can do this. Women do this all the time. Prostitutes do this all the time, kiss people they sure as fuck aren’t attracted to. Which is a weird thing to compare himself to right now, because he’s the one paying the R&D guy, not the other way around, but whatever. 

The R&D guy freezes in place, eyes wide, the patches of skin not covered in blood splatter turning red from blushing. 

Maybe Jack can work with this. 

Jack steps forward, gulping to steady himself. This is fine, this is nothing, just a … a way to motivate his employee. Yeah. This is totally like those threats to strangle people to death. Just … nothing like it at all. 

Before he can lose his nerve, Jack leans down and smashes his lips against the R&D guy’s cheek. He feels stubble and panic slices through him, but he holds himself together. He tastes blood, and concentrates on that instead as he pulls away from the R&D guy, who looks over the moon with delight. 

“Uh, good work.” Jack says, taking a step back towards his desk. “Good work. Keep it up.”

The R&D guy bounces in place. “Yes sir!” he squeals. Then he runs out of the office.

Jack spits on his floor and calls the janitor to come clean it up. 

It was meaningless, he tells himself. And it probably won’t even happen again. So why worry about it?

Jack does worry about it. But he doesn’t tell anyone about it, hoping that the secret will die with the R&D guy once he inevitably gets blasted by the Vault Hunters. 

~*~

The second time, Nakayama – that’s his name, apparently, the R&D guy – tilts his head so Jack’s lips slam into his lips instead of against his face. 

Jack, to his credit, doesn’t panic. He pulls back, glaring, and Nakayama looks smug like a cat who just caught a bird, and Jack is many things but he’s not some stupid fucking bird that got caught by a cat. 

“Ok, that’s how you want this?” he snaps, puffing up with bravado. Then he plunges forward, mashing his lips against Nakayama’s. He grabs the guy by the throat for good measure, holding him in place. 

Nakayama whimpers, half-swooning against Jack, and his tongue darts out hopefully.

“No tongue,” Jack growls, turning his head briefly. “I _mean it_.” Yeah, Vault Hunter heads or not, Nakayama’s not getting his tongue inside any part of Jack’s body. 

There’s a disappointed sigh but that’s it. The kiss continues, without incident, until Jack decides that’s enough. He lets go of Nakayama and goes back to his desk, rubbing his face on his sleeve. “My accountant will wire you the money, again. Same as before.”

“You want more of their heads?” Nakayama asks. “There’s … so many.”

Jack doesn’t look at the guy because he’s pretty sure Nakayama’s hard, and he is _not_ mentally prepared for that, thanks. “If you think you can keep bagging them, sure, go for it. Happy hunting.”

Nakayama scuttles out of the office. 

Jack washes his mouth out with some truly disgusting alcohol and pushes the events of the previous few minutes out of his mind. 

~*~

It’s been a long day. Even heroes like Jack get tired. He’s about to leave his office when Nakayama bounds in, freshly severed head in hand, grinning wide enough to reflect light. 

“Good evening, sir!” Nakayama carefully sets the head down on the desk. “She was a tough one! I think there’s still a bullet in my leg! But she died, just like the rest of them!” 

“Yeah, I can see that.” Jack is actually impressed. The first time might have been a lucky break, the second could have been a fluke, but three times? There’s more to this scrawny R&D guy than meets the eye. 

Nakayama fidgets in place, trying and failing to patiently wait for his bonus reward. 

Jack grabs him by the bloodstained shirt and pulls him in for the kiss. Just a quick one tonight, he tells himself. Then he can go shower, wash the taste of Nakayama off his mouth, and sleep, and dream of Nisha and Moxxie getting into a pillow fight. 

Nakayama wasn’t kidding about the bullet wound, because his left leg buckles as Jack drags him forward. And Jack, who’s pretty tired from the day of work, staggers, and all of the sudden Jack is toppling backwards and Nakayama is _on_ him. Jack manages to land on his chair, and Nakayama ends up half-straddling his lap. 

They just, stay there, frozen, for a couple seconds. Nakayama looks torn between terror and joy. Jack is plotting six different ways to strangle the guy before bed. 

But … well, it’s been a long day, and Nakayama _did_ just bring him another Vault Hunter head after all. 

“No tongue,” he reminds Nakayama, hand grasping the collar of Nakayama’s shirt. 

“Yes sir,” Nakayama nods. “I remember.”

“Well … good …” Jack says weakly. He tugs Nakayama’s face down to his and presses their lips together. 

If Nakayama were a woman, Jack would put his hand on her waist, pull her close, maybe slide his hand under her waistband and finger her in this position. But he is _not_ putting his hands in Nakayama’s pants, not for a hundred Vault Hunter heads. 

So, besides the hand clutching Nakayama’s shirt collar, he keeps his hands to himself. 

Nakayama moans and whimpers and his hips rock a little. Jack doesn’t respond to that. Nakayama jerks his hips again. Jack concentrates on how great it’s going to feel to put that Vault Hunter’s head on display with the others. He thinks about how much money he’s saving by not hiring a bounty hunter for this. 

Nakayama whines, like a dog or something, and puts a hand on Jack’s shoulder. 

Jack shakes him off, then pushes him off his lap. “Keep your hands to yourself! That’s the deal!” 

“Yes, sir.” Nakayama hangs his head. 

“Just … augh, just … go away. Go get your money.”

Nakayama scuttles away. 

Jack goes to sleep, too tired to shower. When he wakes up his mouth still tastes of Nakayama. 

_Gross_. Too gross. What is he even doing with his life? 

~*~

The next two times are just kisses, none of that weird touching or lap sitting stuff. Jack can feel Nakayama’s frustration and disappointment, but he has to make his point, who’s in charge in this … dynamic. 

It’s totally Jack, by the way. 

After he’s made Nakayama wait a while, Jack decides to spring something on him. The head collection is pretty fucking sweet. Jack is gonna have free reign on Pandora at this rate, anyone too badass is getting crushed by Nakayama on the off chance of brief skin-to-skin contact with Jack. 

Another head on his desk, oozing blood. Another squirmy R&D guy waiting patiently for his kiss. Another lips-only-no-tongue kiss from Jack, at Jack’s discretion and Jack’s speed. 

This time though, when Jack pulls away he’s smiling. “Hey,” he says, stretching. “Had an idea. Since you’ve been doing such a good job.”

“Yes, sir?” Nakayama’s eyes are huge, shining. That kind of unconditional love you get from puppies and shit. Jack could ask this guy to do anything, anything at all, and he’d do it. 

Now _that’s_ a fucking power trip.

“This,” Jack waves a hand between them. “This does nothing for me. You know that, right?”

“Yes, sir,” Nakayama looks at the floor. It’d be sad if Jack wasn’t high on the power trip of it all. 

“But it does something for you. Obviously. I’d have to be blind to miss that.” Jack risks a glance downwards and yeah, it’s obvious. 

“Uh … um … er … sir, the thing, the thing is –” aw, that’s adorable, choking himself on his own words without any help from Jack’s hands. 

“My clothes stay on.” Jack says, and that shuts Nakayama up. “Yours too. You can unzip your pants, that’s it. And don’t use your hands on me.”

Nakayama stares at Jack, face bright red. “Sir, um … do you … mean …?”

“Yeah, go for it,” Jack leans against his desk. “No hands though. And your clothes stay on.”

“Yes sir!” Nakayama licks his lips and moves forward, shaking already. 

It’s awkward to start with. (Everything with Nakayama is awkward.) Nakayama doesn’t seem to want to come into contact with Jack unless it’s in the perfect way, and Jack doesn’t want to touch the guy or give him any advice on how to go about this. 

Eventually, Nakayama is pressed against Jack’s left side, hips jerking and breath hot on Jack’s neck, erection digging into Jack’s leg. Jack can barely feel it between the layers of fabric, but it’s there, doing its thing. Nakayama’s hands are on either side of Jack, gripping the desk with white knuckles. Jack could break out easily, but he just stands there and lets it happen. He can burn his clothes after this, he’s got closets full of them. 

All of the sudden Nakayama’s hips shudder and the erection is gone, and Nakayama is zipping up and covered in sweat. He looks way grosser than normal, but also relaxed and content in a way he hasn’t appeared before. 

“Thank you, sir,” Nakayama breathes out. Jack’s heard plenty of people sucking up to him, but none with such intense sincerity as this.

“Um, yeah. Well, you’re doing good work, so … keep that up.”

Nakayama nods, smiling broadly, and limps off. 

~*~

It’s not every time. He doesn’t let Nakayama rut against him every time. 

Just … most of the times. 

It makes Nakayama more efficient. That’s how Jack justifies it to himself, at least. The heads keep showing up. Jack burns his clothes at first, then just chucks them in the laundry. So what, they’ve been rubbed all over Nakayama. Jack’s done grosser stuff. 

Probably. 

Almost certainly.

There’s stuff he can’t remember doing when he was wasted. He must have done grosser stuff then. 

Jack’s giving a presentation, about new tech for Hyperion. The conference room is packed with people hanging on his every word, because they remember what happened to the last guy who yawned during one of Jack’s presentations. 

Nakayama scuttles in the back, triumphantly holding aloft a severed head. That gets a couple of the accountants to look queasy, which is funny because Jack had forgotten not everyone at Hyperion gets their hands dirty with other people’s blood routinely. 

Jack keeps talking, clicking through the slides in the presentation. He’s got one eye on Nakayama though, who’s approaching slowly but surely. 

“And here we can see the –” Jack grabs Nakayama by the collar and yanks him forward.

He hears everyone else’s intake of breath, positive they’re about to witness one of Jack’s infamous downsizing procedures. 

Jack plants a kiss on Nakayama’s forehead, glances pointedly at the door, and lets him go. 

“– projected figures increasing dramatically over the next three years,” Jack continues, like nothing happened, nothing weird happened at all, you’re the weird one for thinking something weird happened. 

Nobody so much as cracks a smile or coughs to conceal a laugh.

Jack drags the presentation on for a few extra minutes, knowing that Nakayama is waiting in his office and squirming with anticipation.


End file.
